


Stuck on You

by Undercover_Royalty



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: But not dangerously!, F/M, I can’t wait for this movie, MJ is nervous but she’s better at hiding it, Operas, Peter is freaking out, School trips, Teen Romance, accidental use of powers, based on that one scene from the new trailer, no beta we die like men, sweet awkward teen romance, ’you look pretty’/‘you look pretty too’
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 23:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17435762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Undercover_Royalty/pseuds/Undercover_Royalty
Summary: MJ stood up shortly thereafter— and Peter nearly went with her, on account of their still-linked hands. Confused, she made a short motion, like she was trying to break the grip, but couldn’t.And then, with a muted horror, Peter realized that he’d accidentally used his adhesion.





	Stuck on You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> So... how about that trailer, huh?  
> I am SO excited to post my first (completed) Peter/MJ work here. I wrote it in a blur after the trailer and honestly adore it— and the scene that prompted it!  
> Here’s hoping the movie will be just as good as it looks! 
> 
> —U.R

One thing Peter had not considered before coming to Europe— operas were _long_. 

Supposedly, watching the opera they’d gotten tickets to would bring them some benefit in their English class of the following year, but of the Midtown students that had made the commitment to come on the Europe trip, nobody really seemed to care that much. 

Flash was playing some game on his phone— and probably racking his data bill up ridiculously high while he was at it. Betty and Ned had their heads close together, whispering at a low volume— Peter was still impressed with Ned, his best buddy, managing to get the girl. There were two other kids with them, but in the flurry of trying to get through the airport, Peter had forgotten their names and was, quite frankly, too embarrassed to ask by then. 

That left one more— the only person actually watching the opera. 

MJ. 

Peter sent a short glance at her from the corner of his eye, and quickly looked away when she shifted in her seat. Shortly after they’d arrived, she’d quickly insisted that he sit next to her during the show— and he’d readily agreed— but beyond that, they hadn’t had much time to talk. It was a shame, really, because Peter _liked_ talking to MJ. 

If he was being totally honest with himself, he _liked_ MJ in general, but that was besides the point. And, thinking back to earlier that evening, he considered that his crush might not be quite as one-sided as he’d once thought. 

‘You look pretty, too.’ 

Guys weren’t supposed to blush after being called pretty. In fact, that was probably the unmanliest thing Peter had ever heard of. But, it happened all the same. It wasn’t like he could help it! Almost anything MJ said these days, with regards to him in particular, was enough to make him blush. 

Peter had come into this opera with single-minded determination. Even if nobody else cared too much about it, he knew MJ would be interested— and thus, so would he. That’s what people who cared about each other did, right? They engaged in each other’s interests. Yeah, that sounded right. But... the opera was long. And confusing. And entirely in Italian. 

So after about thirty minutes of straining to read the subtitles, Peter had to give up.  
Instead, he kept an awareness of MJ. When she laughed to herself, so did he. If she looked stunned, he’d turn to her with a similar expression. That ended up being much easier. 

At least, until MJ gently tapped him on the shoulder, after a nearly glass-shattering aria. 

“I know you aren’t really paying attention.” 

Peter instantly tensed up. Oh no. He hadn’t counted on that. Oh God, oh God, she had to think he was such a loser. Or, well, she’d already said that about him on multiple occasions. But, worse, now she probably thought he was being phony. And if she thought that, then she’d probably never take him seriously, with anything. 

“Um...” he managed to reply, quietly, mouth drying out. 

“But, uh,” MJ broke off, “you did try. More so than these guys, at any rate. That... that means... something.” 

Peter didn’t know exactly what ‘something’ referred to, but he prayed it was something good. MJ briefly kept his gaze before turning back to the show, bringing a hand to lay out on the armrest. 

Oh. What did... what did _that_ mean? Did she want to hold hands? She probably did, because her hand hadn’t been resting there before and besides, the chairs they sat in were styled to be pretty, and thus the wavy, wrought-iron “armrests” weren’t exactly the most comfortable. So, she definitely wanted to hold hands, then. Okay. He could do that. 

Peter curled his own hand against his knee, finding his palm damp with sweat— _nice_. Discreetly, he dried it on his pants, his other hand starting to drum nervously against the seat. If he didn’t chill out, his leg might start to fidget, and something told him MJ would probably be annoyed by that. It was just holding her _hand_ — and she’d all but confirmed she was okay with it. Why was actually going for it so hard? 

‘ _C’mon_ ,’ Peter thought to himself, frustratedly, ‘ _C’mon, Spider-Man. C’mon, Peter_.’ 

Finally, shakily, he moved his hand back off the seat, lifting it hesitantly and awkwardly hovering it over MJ’s. As he was contemplating the best way to do things, she suddenly flipped her hand over, exposing her palm. She didn’t even bother to look at him as he finally lowered his hand, lying it over hers. A moment more and she’d interlaced their fingers. 

And, that was that. 

They were doing it. 

It, of course, being holding hands, it wasn’t like— no, no, _no_ , he needed to shut up. 

There were occasional micro-adjustments, but over all they stayed steady. For Peter it was as if his hand wasn’t even his own anymore. There was himself, autonomous, maybe slightly cool from the AC being on full blast, and then there was his right hand, interlaced with MJ’s and practically radiating heat. Yeah, it was nice— _really nice_ — but it was simultaneously one of the most nerve-wracking things he’d ever done. In fact, he’d worked himself up so much at that point that his stupid Spider-sense started to hum, adding an uncomfortable level to a mind already over-stacked with thoughts. 

“Hey,” MJ offered at the end of the next solo, “Chill. This is fine.” 

‘ _Is it?_ ’ Peter’s panicked mind wanted to ask, ‘ _Because my palm is *definitely* sweating right now and that’s kinda gross and I don’t know if you care that much but it could be really bothering you and— agh!_.’ 

“...Okay.” he actually replied, after a moment. 

After another few minutes, he couldn’t help it, and adjusted the hold, placing his elbow on the uncomfortable armrest, their fingers still interlaced. Then, hesitantly, he began to trace his thumb back and forth in the space between her thumb and index finger. May told him once that girls liked when guys did that. For once, it seemed that MJ wasn’t an exception, as she gave him a brief smile that made his heart leap, joyfully anxious. 

Something caught his eye, and glancing down, Peter found that his phone had lit up. Sending a quick glance around for Mr. Harrington—who’d fallen dead-asleep in his chair—Peter flipped it over and checked, quickly, finding two texts from Ned. 

DUDE

NO WAY. 

A little off-guard, Peter glanced down the row, only to find both Ned and Betty grinning at him. Ned gave an over-exaggerated thumbs up and Peter waved him off, flushing embarrassedly. When he looked back, the grins had dropped from the couple’s faces, and they quickly turned back to face the stage. Peter looked over just as MJ lowered her middle finger, also turning back. She rolled her shoulders, exhaling. 

She... she was nervous, too. 

Peter honestly should’ve figured that out. But having it there, as confirmation, as something he could actually see, came like a balm after the guessing game of the last twenty or so minutes. And, he wasn’t gonna lie, it gave him a little boost of confidence. He wondered how MJ felt about having an arm around her. 

He would’ve found out, too, if the intermission lights hadn’t come up. Over the loudspeaker, someone began speaking Italian in a crackling voice that made most of the Midtown kids jump. But, people were starting to move, so a few decided to follow their lead. 

MJ stood up shortly thereafter— and Peter nearly went with her, on account of their still-linked hands. Confused, she made a short motion, like she was trying to break the grip, but couldn’t. 

And then, with a muted horror, Peter realized that he’d accidentally used his adhesion. 

“Oh, I-I—“ he stammered, “Sorry, MJ, hold on—“ 

Peter knew the trick to stop sticking— he had to relax. Unfortunately, relaxing was almost impossible to do with his crush standing right there, staring quizzically at him as he tried to do so. So no, he couldn’t relax. And what was worse, in his frantic attempt to do so, he may have actually started to panic, just a little. 

MJ finally curled her fingers back into his and tugged him up, leading both of them down the row towards the exit. He followed, of course, because what else could he do? Unfortunately, both of them quickly found themselves at a roadblock. 

“Uh...what the hell?” asked Flash, who‘d been coming back towards his seat from the opposite direction. He looked like he was seconds away from either bursting out laughing, or pulling out his phone to film them. A derisive grin started to pull at his face. 

MJ sneered. 

“Move it, _Eugene_.”

Before Peter could even think to say anything— not that he knew what exactly would be appropriate in the given situation, anyways— she was bodily shoving her way past, with him being practically dragged along behind her. They quickly got through the main door and out into a reception area, an older woman nearly bumping into them. 

“Oh-!” she startled, but upon noting their joined hands, broke out in a smile, turning to her partner, “ _Amore giovane, certo_.” 

“ _Sí_.” the older man agreed, as both MJ then Peter diverted around him. 

MJ rushed down the hall with singular intent, constantly glancing from side to side as they passed a few archways into wide rooms, many with ornate bars and people mingling amongst each other. Finally, they turned a corner and discovered two stiff-looking armchairs sitting against one wall. It was to these that they went, sitting back down. 

After looking both ways, MJ finally addressed Peter. 

“This is a Spider-Man thing, isn’t it?” 

It didn’t even sound like a question. With her already knowing anyways, there was no point in lying— even if the impulse to came without him even thinking of it. 

“Yeah.” he admitted, sheepishly, “Sorry, it’s just... sometimes I... stick to things.” 

“Evidently.” MJ agreed, tugging again at their conjoined hands for emphasis, “Okay, so how do you _not_ do that?” 

“I need to relax.” Peter admitted, quickly, “And I’m tryin’ to, really, I just...”

“Okay, okay.” MJ cut him off before he could fluster himself any further, “I mean, do you need to call somebody or something? Like May?” 

God, he was so embarrassed. He didn’t want MJ to baby him, asking if he needed to call May. Truth be told, Peter didn’t even think that would help, because if he called then she’d want to know why and then that, right there, was a whole other mess he didn’t even want to get into. 

...Besides, he didn’t know if _Happy_ would be there or not. 

And if he was, well, that definitely wouldn’t help in the stressed-out predicament. At best, it’d only throw in some mild frustration. 

“She, uh... she’d kill me if I racked up our data plan.” Peter confessed, which was also true. 

“Okay, uh...” MJ tried again, eyebrows knitting as she thought of another solution. 

And Peter blamed it on his lovesickness, but something about MJ in the current lighting was just... incredible. The absolute last thing he should’ve done in that moment was stare at her and yet, he couldn’t help himself all the same. Her natural beauty had been entirely highlighted. The golden lamps fixed along the hall illuminated her curls and reflected off her glowing skin. He wondered if she was wearing lipgloss, and then decided she was, noting the way her lips shined under the light. 

And now Peter was focusing on her lips. 

And that was... probably bad. Or was it? Peter couldn’t kid himself anymore, the thought of kissing MJ had definitely been appealing, more than once on this trip alone. But, well, none of those times had really felt right. Most of the time, there had been too many other people around for him to risk it. But for the moment, blessedly, there really was nobody but them. 

So this time... maybe this time was right. 

And, just as that thought crossed his mind, Peter felt his hand slip out of MJ’s. 

“Oh, hey—“ MJ noted, glancing up, only to freeze once she met his eyes. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other. MJ’s pupils were darting across his face in micro-movements, trying to figure out what exactly he was doing. Peter supposed it was a good thing he already knew. 

Sure, maybe this wasn’t the “perfect time”, sitting in overstuffed chairs with their hands having just been essentially superglued together. 

But for some reason, he felt like this was their time, anyway. 

“—Oh.” MJ repeated, very, very softly, and he imagined that she’d come to the same conclusion. 

Peter went for it, leaning over across the awkwardly high armrest— and just before he closed his eyes, he saw that MJ was leaning over too. He didn’t even have time to process how amazing that felt before their lips connected. 

It was very brief. 

After about five seconds, MJ drew back a bit, looking him over again with a pressing question in her eyes. She looked almost... worried, to see his reaction. 

Luckily for her, Peter had never felt more relaxed. He smiled, reassuringly. Then, the worry faded away, replaced by a brilliant smile of her own. Peter took a moment to admire her, and wondered, after everything, how on earth he’d gotten that lucky. Then, as she nudged him, pointedly he figured he had other concerns. 

So, very gently, he cupped her cheek and leaned in again.

**Author's Note:**

> “Amore giovane, certo.” = “Young love, of course.”  
> (At least, according to Google. Please correct me if I’m wrong!)


End file.
